


You Were Sorta Punk Rock (I Grew Up on Hip-Hop)

by nostalgicplant



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Flowerchild!Harry, Fluff, M/M, Punk!Louis, Uni AU, larry - Freeform, larry fluff, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:07:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1442908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgicplant/pseuds/nostalgicplant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall gives good advice, Zayn and Liam are sleeping together, Harry's nervous for once in his life, and Louis is a mess. Hysterics ensure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Were Sorta Punk Rock (I Grew Up on Hip-Hop)

Louis realizes two things when he wakes up; first, that it’s light, which means that Harry didn’t wake him up before he left for Holmes Chapel, and second, there is a piece of paper taped to his forehead. Groaning, Louis pulls the duvet over his head and growls something about ‘dumb Harry opening the windows to let all the damn light in’. 

Dumb, dumb, dumb Harry with his curls and flower crowns that he’s always trying to stuff on Louis’ head and take a picture of with his dumb Polaroid camera as he throws pencils at Louis and tries to get him to sing along to his dumb indie bands. He’s your stereotypical hipster/indie Uni student in every way but one; he’s dating a tattooed, pierced, dyed red hair, in-a-rock-band, high-school dropout named Louis Tomlinson. And dumb little Harry is currently on his way to visit his parents for the weekend and to also tell them that he’s not only got himself a boyfriend, but he’s also moved in with him.

Harry and Louis had been HarryandLouis LouisandHarry for almost 2 years now, ever since the September day that Louis was skateboarding down the street with Zayn on his heels and Niall behind him and was too busy hollering at Zayn to stop worrying about his hair and worry about avoiding people when he went crashing into a tree – a literal, honest to god tree and gave himself a nasty bloody nose. Harry saw the entire thing happen and ran up to help him up seeing how Zayn and Niall where laughing far too hard to help the red haired boy up. He was spitting blood from his lip piercing going into his gums, his nose throbbing and spewing more blood from being run rather unceremoniously into a tree and cussing up a storm, but sweet, calm, sweater-clad Harry still ran up to Louis and helped him. 

At first, Louis hadn’t understood why Harry was being so helpful. He towed Louis back to his teeny-tiny flat just outside the university and helped him remove his piecing from his gum (ew), wrap and clean up his nose (double ew), and gave him a clean sweater to wear instead of his bloody and dirty one (yay, especially since Harry’s sweaters smelled great). It wasn’t until a few weeks later that Louis figured out the fountain of Harry’s virtue – it was simply his personality. Harry picked up trash, helped students carry their books, got stray cats out of trees, shopped for old ladies, and on occasion, tutored other students for free, all because he was Harry. 

Louis was punk rock. Or at least, he liked to think so. He had tattoos up his arms and piercings all over and red hair and was in a band that screamed more than it sang, for god’s sakes. But he developed a new character trait after meeting Harry – stalking. He learned Harry’s schedule, where he worked, who he hung out with (Liam Payne, the guy who Zayn had taken quite a liking to), and where he lived. Heck, Louis even learned what Harry’s bike looked like and where he parked it every day. It was safe to say that Louis Tomlinson had a big, fat, whopping crush on Harry Styles, and he had no idea how to deal with it.

First came the denial stage. Louis couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he liked flowerchild-A student-hipster-curly Harry. He ignored the jibes from Zayn and Niall, ignored the Uni campus completely, and certainly tried to ignore the butterflies he got every time he thought of a certain brown haired boy. 

Then came the anger. Louis went through a 2 week period in which he practically burned anything that faintly reminded him of Harry (their music took a particularly dark turn then). He violently put down indie music and refused to listen to the radio because of all the dumb love songs. Flowers where often run over during the period too, which Niall found to be hilarious for some reason. Then again, Niall seemed to find everything hilarious. 

After the anger came acceptance. This was the stage that Louis began to stalk Harry in. He followed him everywhere, at a reasonable distance on his skateboard, of course, and tried to come up to reasons to run into him. Well, not literally run into him, like the tree, but to hold a decent conversation with him. So Louis tried to figure Harry out while trying to get famous with their band The Craic, support his family (who no longer talked to him, thank you very much), work at a normal job (He’s a bartender), and try to pay his own bills. So while he was rather busy, he still managed to find a good bit for information and ‘coincidently’ meet up with Harry. It was all a rather chaotic stage of Louis’ life, which naturally only got worse when Harry came up to him, stammering and red faced, shoved a note into Louis’ hand, then took off sprinting in the other direction. Louis thinks he must have tripped five or six times. 

Inside the note was a messy scrawl reading; Lunch tomorrow? 1pm @ Missotios? If you can, I mean. :) xxH

And if Louis skated home and whooped with joy once or twice, no one should hold it against him. 

Naturally, he and Harry had a truly awful first date, and Harry ran the other way whenever he saw Louis for a week and a half, until Louis intervened and invited Harry to one of his gigs out of sheer panic. (He was planning on dinner, but what the hell?) It went rather disastrously, featuring Louis changing all the lyrics and stammering and forgetting his lines after seeing Harry and his mate Liam in the audience. They went out for drinks after, and Harry got spectacularly drunk (he had a really, really, really low tolerance) and couldn’t remember where he lived, and since Liam hadn’t gone with them for drinks (much to Zayn’s fury), Louis had to take Harry back to his flat because he couldn’t just pop up at Harry’s and have to explain how he knew where he lived. 

But they hit off wonderfully and started dating, casually at first, and after 3 months of coffee dates and tentative winky faces in texts, Louis had the decency to make an honest man out of himself and ask Harry to be his proper boyfriend. And more amazing than hard-core Louis asking soft, gentle, breezy Harry to be his boyfriend was that Harry said yes.  
And sure, they’d had their fair share of fights. They’d broken up 2 months after Louis officially asked Harry out, and it had gutted him. Louis ended up becoming desperate and serenading Harry under his window while sobbing and singing rather gushy love songs in the middle of the night. Harry, being the sap he was, thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and they hadn’t broken up since. Louis was 99% sure that Harry has pictures stashed somewhere.

And so here he was, laying under the covers while his boyfriend no doubt was at home with his family, waiting to break the biggest news of his life to his family while Louis lay at home, completely unable to do anything but fret about this and that. 

Slowly, Louis reached a hand up to remove the taped note from his forehead. It was a very Harry thing to do – leave little notes and messages all over the flat for Louis to find. Slowly, he pulled the covers down enough to let enough light in to read the note. It was written on a little pink note and said ‘Hey Boo. Sorry that I didn’t wake you, but you looked so peaceful I couldn’t bring myself to. Plus, I was kind of nervous and ended up leaving at one, so I don’t think you would have appreciated it. See you on Monday! Love you!! xxH’  
Louis moans and rolls over, because Harry is just so goshdarned cute and sometimes, Louis really, really hates him. 

After another hour of fitful and rather lonely sleep, Louis gets up because he can’t stay asleep knowing that Harry is battling it out at his house. The fact that Harry was nervous concerns him, because even though Louis is rather tough looking and Harry looks a bit like a kitten, Louis is usually the one shouting ‘CAREFUL’ from across the block and Harry is the one diving into the lake in the middle of the night. So Louis’ pit of worry in his stomach grows quite a bit as he steps into the shower and begins scrubbing his hair. And it grows when he steps out and gets dressed and styles his hair. It gets bigger when he puts his piercings in, and by the time its 10AM and Louis is standing in his hipster goes punk kitchen (Harry decided to combine their tastes to create their house décor, it was very interesting) going to make a piece of toast, when he decides to screw it all and hops in his car to go to Niall’s. 

***

As it turns out, Niall is no help. First, he’s sleeping, and second, after Louis makes him eggs on toast and brings it to him in bed in hopes that Niall will give him some advice or a new song he needs to work on, Niall just moans and rolls over.

“Niall c’mon,” Louis wheedles as the blonde and lilac haired boy in front of him munches his breakfast contentedly. 

“This is nice. Glad Harry taught you how to cook. You used to be right awful at it, remember?” Niall mumbles through a mouthful of toast. 

“Glad you like my breakfast making skills. Harry’s better at making everything though.” Louis narrows his eyes and squints at Niall. “Now that I’ve gone and made you breakfast in bed, give me advice.”

“Whaddya need advice for?” Niall replies casually, and Louis thinks he might strange him, because he’s explained himself three times already and Niall doesn’t seem to get that. 

“What. Do. I. Do?” Louis cries dramatically and flops back onto Niall’s legs. 

“Gerooff!” Niall spits at Louis, spewing a few crumbs of toast onto his face. Louis wrinkles his nose and wipes his face on the duvet, mumbling something about ‘nasty Irish cumblies’.

“Help me Nialler, please,” The red haired boy turns to look up at the Irish one. “Harry’s off to tell his family about us and he’s nervous and he didn’t say goodbye and I don’t know what to do.” 

Niall stares blankly at Louis before taking another bite of toast. 

“You go after him, obviously.” He says after he chews his food a bit. 

“I can’t do that. This is the first time he’s seen his family for three months and I can’t expect them to welcome me. Hell, I can’t even expect him to welcome me. What if his family hates me and I go to see him and he breaks up with me then and there? What if they talk some sense into him and he realizes what prat I really am? What if-” Louis near hysterical soliloquy is cut off by a chuckling Niall.

“Lou, mate, listen to yourself. Harry loves you and you know it, I mean come on, the lad’s been dating you for two bloody years now and he’s been begging to tell his parents about you, except you’re a stubborn little worrywart and won’t let him for some damn reason or another. So go get in your car and drive to Holmes Chapel, kiss your boyfriend on the mouth in front of his family, tell him that you love him, and watch everyone coo over you like you’re the second coming of Christ like everyone else does.” 

Louis just sits there for a moment before he shakes his head. “I can’t do that Niall, you know I can’t. I don’t even know where Harry’s house is.”

“Yes you do. You know everything about that little bugger.” Niall snorts. And ok, maybe Louis does know where Harry lives, because he’s got it saved on his phone from when he found a letter on Harry’s desk with it and typed it out, just in case, but Niall really doesn’t need to know that. 

“I don’t. And I’m not doing that.” 

“Fine,” Niall rolls his eyes. “Sit around and fret and call me every two seconds. It’s your choice.”

“Screw off,” Louis hisses. “Don’t forget we have band practice tomorrow.” He tells Niall and he stands up and walks off. “Thanks for the great advice that wasn't that great!” 

“Anytime!” Niall hollers as Louis open the front door. “But keep in mind what I said though!” 

Louis just rolls his eyes and starts descending the stairs. So much for Niall being helpful. It’s not that Louis doesn’t want to meet Harry’s family, because he really, really, really does. Harry’s always made them seem so lovely, so welcoming and cheery, and besides, they’re Harry’s family, so he loves them by default. It’s just that he’s not the boyfriend that boys bring home to their parents and their parents automatically like. He’s got far too many piercings, too many tattoos, hair that’s dyed a shade too bright, and a liking for music that’s much too risqué. He doesn’t want to make Harry any more nervous by being there, but at the same time, there’s nothing more that he wants than to be right by Harry with an arm around him, telling him not to be nervous and calming him down. Because Louis likes to think that if there’s one person in the world who knows Harry, it’s Louis. 

He knows Harry’s favorite food, his favorite TV program, how hot he likes his showers, how he likes his tea, what jokes will make him smile, what music he listens to for each mood, how he studies best and other little things like that. Stuff that is trivial, but Louis will bet that if you asked anyone else, they wouldn’t know the answers. 

And he knows deeper stuff too – stuff like how to calm Harry down when he’s stressing for an exam, how to get him to open up when he’s got something on his mind, how to comfort him when he gets homesick, how to encourage him to finish Uni when he goes through his ‘let’s quit school and become a hippie’ stage, and of course, how to calm him down when he gets into that state of pure panic in the rare moments he shows fear.

And Louis would bet anything that’s how Harry is right now, sweating and mumbling and saying he feels sick, and the thing is, he looks sick. He looks awful, flushed and sweaty and shaky and warm to touch, except it’s not the flu, its Harry getting scared out of his wits. So Louis should be there, should be standing with his fingers laced in Harry’s except when he tried to get Harry to let him come with him, Harry was rather – violent about demanding that Louis stay back. So Louis did. And now, he was coping by driving to a gas station to buy an ice cream and a pack of cigarettes to head over to Zayn’s to see if he would play FIFA and get his mind off Harry. 

The cigarettes where for Zayn, of course, because shortly after he started dating Harry, Harry made this offhand comment about how bad smoking was for your health and went on this hour long talk with Louis about how much smoking affected everyone and how sad he was that people smoked. Louis went cold turkey after that conversation and hasn’t smoked since. Zayn and Niall always share little grins and tease Louis about being ‘utterly and disgustingly whipped’ when he refuses a smoke. And to be perfectly honest, even though Louis banters back at them and pretends to be offended, he loves the way the words sound. Harry has him whipped. It’s nice to have someone else in control, for once.

When Louis gets to Zayn’s house, he’s still sleeping, which isn't usually abnormal, because Zayn is almost always sleeping, but the problem is that he’s curled up around Liam. And neither of them have any clothes on. So Louis throws the pack of cigs on Zayn’s counter and hightails it out of there before either of them wakes up and catches him.

A couple of years ago, Zayn gave Louis his key because he was tired of having to let Louis in. But then Louis lost the key, and since he knew that Zayn would be pissed, he pretended he still had it and snuck in the window when Zayn wasn’t looking. So now, climbing over dirty dishes and a messy counter toward the sink, Louis is trying his hardest not to make noise and set Zayn and Liam on his heels. Louis has done this loads of times before, but for the last year and a half, he’s been with Harry. Harry, giggling and whispering at Lou to ‘be quiet! He’ll hear us!’ as Louis crawls through the front window and then helps Harry out after they’ve completely ransacked and pranked Zayn’s flat. Over the years, they’ve done several pretty… interesting pranks, including covering the entire floor in shaving cream, hiding all the lampshades and curtains, stealing all Zayn’s toothbrushes and toothpaste, putting all of his socks and underwear in the freezer, and so on and so on. 

But Louis has a bigger problem than Zayn and Liam sleeping together, because the two have been dating ‘behind’ their backs for months. It would be secret, except they are painfully obvious about it all and Louis can’t figure out why they don’t just go public already. It’s not like they really act much different from LouisandHarry, but whatever. His bigger problem is that he has nothing to do, nowhere to go but home to fret and worry and check his phone every second and a half for any news from Harry, even though Louis knows that Harry tend to not keep his phone on him when he’s at home and only texts him at night because he’s a cute little Momma’s boy, which is something Louis constantly teases Harry about, but never complains. He loves the way that Harry’s family loves him and how close they are, because he hasn’t been like that with his family in years. And yeah, he’s lonely, which is why he clings so close to Harry, because Harry and the rest of the boys are really the only family he has now, and he doesn’t think he could survive losing them too. 

***

Louis is going nuts. Literal, actual, nuts. It’s 2PM, and he’s cleaned the entire flat. Twice. Harry tends to keep the place in good order, when Louis tends to be a whirlwind, throwing everything everywhere and making a general ruckus, but he has nothing better to do than clean. He has nothing else to occupy his mind than to wash laundry and sort it and put it away, and then decide it’s time to organize and take everything out and put it back in based on color. So maybe he’s a bit crazy, but he’s heard nothing from Harry and he’s worried out of his mind.

And now the house is clean, the windows washed, the candles lit, the kitchen gleaming, the showerhead de-rusted and the clothes neatly organized and put away, but Louis has never felt more out of control in his entire life. So what does he do? Louis Tomlinson has never been one to just sit around and let things roll on by out of control, oh no, not him. So he does what he does best – stupid things like getting in his car, pointing it toward Holmes Chapel, and driving as fast as he dares his rattling deathtrap will take him. 

***

Now that’s he’s in Holmes Chapel, parked down the street from Harry’s house (it’s the one with the flag outside, Louis knows that from pictures he’s seen of a young Harry and Gemma waving to the camera), Louis has no idea what he’s doing here or what he’s going to do here. The sun is just starting to set, spewing colors of red and orange and pink all out over the evening sky, and they look far too beautiful for the sick feeling in Louis’ stomach. Because now he’s here, and he can’t very well just march into Harry’s house and expect them to totally accept him. 

The thing is that Louis is terrified that Harry’s family is going to hate him and make Harry realize that Louis really isn’t the one for Harry. Because Harry is the most caring, amazing, most gentle person Louis has ever met and Harry deserves someone like that, someone who will take long walks with him and talk about the clouds for hours instead of zooming off on a skateboard and breaking his arm. And Louis is a lot of things, but he’s not very gentle or patient like Harry, no matter how hard he tries. And every day, he sees the good and purity in Harry and the cloud of filth around himself. And one day, Harry is going to wake up and see that Louis isn’t a good person at all and walk out the door. And Harry is going to tell his parents about Louis and describe him and all he’s going to come up with is ‘impatient, rude and rough’. Then he’s going to realize that Louis is no good for him at all and that will be that. 

And that’s why Louis hasn’t let Harry tell his parents about him, because he’s a selfish creature and wants to keep Harry as long as possible. Because when Harry tells his family about Louis, that will be the end of HarryandLouis and Louis will slink back to his tiny flat and live with no education and a band that can’t get its act together and no one to come home to. So Louis is afraid. Sue him. 

Louis is knocked out of his thoughts by a rap on the window. He looks up, startled, mouth open and searching for an excuse for parking right in front of someone’s driveway when he sees who is standing in the window, hands in his pockets with a tentative grin on his face. 

“Louis?” Harry mouths as Louis scrambles to roll his window down. 

“Harry!” Louis cries, but it comes out far too enthusiastic and he immediately feels like an idiot.

“What are you doing here? I thought we agreed that you’d stay behind,” Harry’s face peers in the window as the dark night air swirls around the two boys. 

Louis’ stomach hits rock bottom and stays there. Harry doesn’t want him here. Every nightmare he’s ever had is coming true in front of his eyes. Harry’s gotten sense talked into him and doesn’t want Louis. He’s realized that Louis is a deadbeat, a dropout, a failure, unlike Harry, who is top of his class and a shining star.

“Oh, um,” Louis stammers as he shifts the car into drive and presses his foot to the brake to keep from chopping Harry’s nose off. “I guess I’ll just be going then. I’ll uh,” Louis’ voice gets stuck in his throat, “see you then?” His words end with a sniff and his lifts the brake and presses the gas, letting the tears rush down his face as the sharp sting of rejection flows through him. 

Tonight will be Louis’ first time sleeping alone, really alone, for almost a year and a half. Even when Harry’s gone home for Christmas or whatnot, he’s always texting Louis and sending him little notes and silly faces. Tonight will be the night where he sleeps on the floor, unable to cope with the cold bed and lack of snoring. Louis will never admit that Harry’s snoring is cute, but it is. It’s really cute. Even when it keeps Louis up all night and he ends up missing band practice trying to catch up on sleep. 

But there’s no more of that, Louis thinks to himself as he furiously presses the gas pedal down. There’s no more late night cuddles or pillow fights, because he’s a bloody failure and the only person he has left has finally realized it. Has finally let go of Louis and left him to dive into a tailspin and spin around and around and around until his head hurts from too many drunken nights in a row and his brain hurts from trying to find the words to put in a song that make him feel just the tiniest bit better. 

The street is dimly lit as Louis pushes his car faster, trying to outrace his tears. His window is still open and the icy night wind whirls in and stings his face like a thousand tiny needles, but Louis deserves it. He deserves to feel pain, because it maybe he was different, Harry would love him still. Maybe if he had succeeded in school and stuck with football and made him mom happy and not gotten kicked out when he was 17 Harry would accept him. Maybe maybe maybe. The words spin around Louis’ head as he drives down the street, passing green lawns and cheery lights. How could lights be so happy when Louis feels so awful? 

He’s halfway down the street when he finally hears the yelling. 

“Louis! Dammit Louis, wait! Stop!” Louis flicks his gaze to his rearview mirror and almost slams on the horn, he's so surprised.

It’s Harry. 

Harry is sprinting after the car, completely barefoot, his curls going in every which direction and a rather panicked look on his face. Louis lets his foot off the gas, just a little bit.

“Stop, Lou, stop.” Harry pants as Louis pulls the car to a halt, eyes wide. 

“I thought you didn’t-” Louis starts, but his tears are overpowering his speech. “-didn’t want me.” He chokes out at last, and Harry just stands at the window, mouth slack and eyes large.

“What do you mean? I was surprised to see you, Lou. I didn’t expect to see you here. That doesn’t mean-that didn’t mean I didn’t want you here. In fact, I haven’t stopped wishing that I had brought you with me since I left the flat.” Harry explains, and Louis lets out a tiny sob. Harry whimpers, and Louis can see tears fogging up his eyes too. 

“Christ,” Louis hisses as he shifts the car into park and shuts it off. Harry is still looking at Louis with huge, watery eyes as tears stream down Louis’ cheeks. He hops out of the car and reaches blindly for Harry, not caring that he’s standing in the middle of the road in the middle of winter because he needs Harry right now and that’s all. “I thought you’d come to your senses and realized that I wasn’t good enough anymore.” 

“God Lou,” Harry says softly into his shoulder as they embrace, arms clenched tightly around one another. “You’ll always be good enough for me. I’ve been stressed out of my mind all day and I’ve only just broken to my family that there’s someone else, like literally dropped it, Gem guessed it right on the head and I dropped the bowl of peas,” Louis managed to giggle through his tears and hold Harry a little tighter. “And all I’ve really wanted this entire day is to have you by my side, making sly little jokes and being, being you.” Louis’ voice sticks in his throat as he pulls away from Harry a little bit so he can see his face.

“Really?” He whispers softly.

“Really,” Harry replies, green eyes shining as he leans toward Louis. Their lips hover over each other’s before they slot together perfectly, softly and desperately at the same time. Harry tastes like chocolate and strawberries and home, and Louis doubts he’s ever felt more comforted than right now, with Harry kissing him like the world is ending and making him feel wanted and loved and like he’s the greatest thing in the world. 

“Excuse me, but I’d rather not puke up my dinner after watching my little brother make out with mysterious stranger who is most likely the boy Harry has been stammering and blushing about for the last hour.” A strange voice pipes up from behind the boys and Louis pulls away from Harry and turns to look at the voice. 

Fate must have a sense of humor, because he’s parked in front of Harry’s house.

He’s making out with Harry in front of Harry’s house.

Harry’s mother and sister are standing on the porch.

Which is on their house.

Which they were just making out in front of.

Ahem.

A blush rapidly spreads over Louis face, a color that would match his hair, and Harry chuckles as he tangles his hand with Louis’. Louis gives it a tight squeeze, and even though he’s standing in front of the two most important people in Harry’s life, he isn’t that nervous, because Harry is standing right next to him with his hand laced through his.  
“Erm, yeah,” Harry stammers and begins walking across the street, Louis following a half step behind.

“So are you going to introduce us or what?” Gemma teases, her hair shimmering in the lamplight as she watches Harry and Louis stride across the lawn toward her and her mother.

“I’m Louis,” Louis tells her, blushing and suddenly becoming very aware that he is wearing an old tee shirt that’s probably Harry’s and a pair of sweats. And his tattoos are swirling down his outstretched arm. And his nails are painted black. Black. When exactly did Louis think that would be a good idea? Why in the world did Harry let him paint his nails black? And Louis has all his piercings in. And even though his hand is tangled with Harry’s and he probably has the world’s biggest blush on his face, he probably still looks like a street rat who’s hair just went through a blender. Which isn’t exactly the way he envisioned himself looking like when he met Harry’s family.

“Pleasure!” Harry’s mother is the first to break the spell that held her and Gemma captive, which was staring rather blatantly at Louis. “Call me Anne,” she grins and reaches forward, completely ignoring Louis’ hand and instead suffocating him in a hug. Louis tentatively reaches out to give her a small hug back and Anne whispers a few soft words in his ear. “You make him really happy, you know?” Anne retreats with a soft grin and Louis gives her a tiny smile back, going to reach for Harry’s hand until Gemma marches forward and promptly wraps Louis up in another hug.

“Break his heart and I’ll break your face,” she hisses in Louis’ other ear, and he finds himself nodding rapidly as Gemma chuckles. “And I like your nail polish. Very cute.” 

Louis’ face turns an even darker shade of red as he reaches back to wrap his hand around Harry’s. 

“Would you like to come in for tea, Louis?” Anne asks gently, and Louis now understands why Harry always speaks so highly of his mother. She truly is a saint.

“I’d love that, thanks,” Louis responds, and then looks over to Harry, who is grinning and looks positively glorious.

“I told you they’d love you,” he grins, and Louis grins back.

“I wouldn't say they love me yet.” Louis responds softly. “Gemma doesn't like my nail polish all that much.”

“Well that sucks for her, because I like your nail polish very much, babe,” Harry replies easily, and Louis thinks his heart melts a little. 

“Do you?” Louis teases Harry as they stand on the now empty porch. “Do you really?”

“Louis.” Harry starts. “I really love you. A lot. And I like your stupid black nail polish and I love you even though you are the most insecure person I’ve ever met and for some reason, thought my family would hate you and I would break up with you. I love you, alright? And nothing is going to change that. Nothing.” 

Louis nods slowly before puckering his lips and giving Harry his best puppy eyes.

“Kiss to seal the deal?” He begs.

“That sounds alright,” Harry giggles softly as he kisses Louis softly and sweetly. “Now shall we go charm the pants off my family?” 

“We shall,” Louis answers, and he hooks arms with Harry and steps inside the house, grinning ear to ear because Harry loves him. Harry loves him and his dumb tattoos and nail polish and punk attitude. Harry loves him. Him.

 

-fin-

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own One Direction, any of their affiliates, or claim to. This work is purely fictional! :)


End file.
